


Aponia

by ridorana



Series: let's get rabanasty [6]
Category: Final Fantasy XII
Genre: Double Penetration, M/M, Mild Spoilers, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Takes place in-game, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-04
Updated: 2020-06-04
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:48:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24536464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ridorana/pseuds/ridorana
Summary: Bhujerba's thin air makes for a quick drunk, but not a quick fuck. Balthier sees little problem with either, and orders himself a double.
Relationships: Balthier/Basch fon Ronsenburg, Balthier/Basch fon Ronsenburg/Vaan, Balthier/Vaan (Ivalice Alliance)
Series: let's get rabanasty [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/904134
Comments: 18
Kudos: 56





	Aponia

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SXAIA](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SXAIA/gifts).



It’s nothing more than a standard closedown of the Strahl; recalibrate the skystone, contact Nono for an overnight report, and lock the hangar. Simple enough, yet it feels like ages until it’s all said and done, and Balthier nearly sprints to the inn. They’d chosen something different this time around; smaller, lesser known and seated on a quiet northern tip of Bhujerba. Simple in all the right ways.

Burning a hole in Balthier’s pocket is a nondescript key, to a nondescript door, of that nondescript inn. Would that he could pass as a nondescript man to seal it all together in picture perfect mundanity! But alas, Balthier simply doesn’t fit the role.

It ends up mattering little. At this hour, no one is even around at the check-in desk to bother Balthier with any questions. Good. It wouldn’t do to have prying eyes follow him as he glides through the lobby and up the stairs. He knows the room number without having to check.

When he arrives, he doesn’t bother to knock.

The sight that greets him within is sweeter than Madhu: Vaan, languid and relaxed on the bed, naked as the moon with smooth, parted thighs. Between them sits Basch, lounged comfortably while his hand works Vaan’s hard cock in slow strokes. Upon Balthier’s entrance, they look up, watching him with half-lidded eyes and mirrored smiles. Balthier locks the door behind him. 

“Can’t even wait for me, can you?” he asks as he strides in, but his voice holds little malice. 

“You know how impatient Vaan can be,” Basch’s voice rumbles across the room, warmed by lust. “And you’re late.” 

With a furrowed brow, Balthier checks the pocket watch from his belt. His eyes slant back to the bed, unimpressed. “Five minutes. That’s hardly late.” 

“It is when we’ve been at this for about twenty.” 

Now that he’s further inside, Balthier can see his impatient bedmates more clearly. It’s not just Basch’s hand on Vaan’s cock, but his other buried two fingers deep in Vaan’s ass, working him open.

Rather than greet Balthier, Vaan instead moans. The sound is sweet and boyish and everything _Vaan_ ; Balthier sees the flex of Basch’s precise fingers as he massages what can only be his prostate. When Vaan’s slim hips buck up from the sheets, his flushed cock glistens in the glow of the magicite sconce.

“You’ve been working so hard lately, ‘Thier,” Vaan breathes, grinding against Basch’s touch, “I just wanted to be ready for you.” 

“How thoughtful,” Balthier hums. Admittedly, the sentiment goes straight to his cock. Vaan loosening himself up by Basch’s hand leaves Balthier nearly dizzy with want. And it’s true - he _has_ been working bloody hard lately. With the Strahl only barely back in his hands after so long, and political unrest clogging the skies with each passing day, Balthier appreciates a little recognition. If Vaan wants to offer that by a hot and ready hole after a long day, well, Balthier will take it. 

That, and a stiff drink. This is a sight worth savoring before getting his own hands dirty.

A modest bar set in the corner of the room holds an array of spirits for his choosing. Bhujerba’s altitude is quick to make any drink a lethal thing, but Balthier chooses the Madhu, unmistakably gold among the amber liquor. It’s already been opened, chilled in the ice bucket, and it burns perfectly on his tongue when he takes a handsome sip. The clink of the ice hitting the bottom of his glass is upstaged by another moan from his apprentice on the bed. 

Over the rim of his lowball glass, Balthier watches Basch work Vaan open. The captain is naked, exposing a lean body wrought with scars that have eased over time, but there’s no mistaking their presence. Echoes still remain of the abuse, mottled divots in flesh from where rusted fetters and gyves once bore. His lithe muscles define the ridge of his broad shoulders; they flex as Basch changes the angle of his hands to better finger Vaan.  
  
Despite the damaged goods, Basch is a nicely built package; beautifully proportioned, with a timelessly handsome face to boot. One of those faces Ffamran would imagine as a teenager, spiriting himself away in the Akademy’s library to read sultry romance novels. On the oaken four poster bed, Basch’s rugged bulk juxtaposes Vaan’s soft, boyish frame. Together, they look like a forbidden painting of a knight and squire. Balthier drinks it in like his Madhu, and savors it. 

And then he drains it dry. 

“You two make quite the sight,” he comments as he begins to undress. His voice is wet with drink, warmed by a stoked lust, and echoed by the thud of his leather belts falling to the floor. The sound piques Vaan’s interest, who lifts his head from its nest on the pillows. 

“Hurry up,” Vaan says. But Balthier does no such thing. 

“Do you have somewhere else to be, or is the captain not enough for you? Basch, it sounds like he could do for another finger _._ ” 

Basch does not wait to oblige, slipping in a third digit. The moan that follows is perfectly on cue.

“That’s more like it.” 

Balthier commands Vaan’s gaze across the room as he disrobes. Deliberately slow, he unclasps each notch of his vest with slipshod grace, followed by the buttons of his tunic beneath, and he smirks at the young thief spread-legged on the bed. Vaan’s hands fist the sheets and he widens his legs even further for Basch, and Balthier knows Vaan well enough by now to catch the way his body asks for _more_. Basch indulges him, pushing in leisurely, his focus completely on Vaan. 

That’s one thing Balthier liked about Basch - one of the many things, truth be told, but he’s not like to admit them all at once. Basch’s unexpected zeal for all things debauched was a pleasant discovery when they began these trysts, and to watch it grow each time only heightened his allure further. Within that shuttered, fallen knight there hides a hunger begging to be unearthed, and Balthier, ever the pirate at heart, has decided to find it, to horde it like gold. And Vaan is the perfect catalyst.

“Would you look at that,” Balthier says, palming at the promising bulge already outlined against his leathers. “How far you both have come since that night in Nalbina. Why, it’s almost heartwarming.” 

Basch’s laugh is a husky rumble, and Vaan groans. “Do that again,” Vaan asks softly, not listening to Balthier’s babble. “Like that.” 

Whatever _that_ is, Basch indeed _does it again_ , and Vaan sighs. They kiss, and Balthier can’t hold himself in any longer at the sound of it. He unsnaps his pants, and lets his cock spring from the confines, hard and ready as he approaches the edge of the bed. Closer now, he can see Basch’s three fingers buried in Vaan. The imp in question seems just fine with the arrangement, and props himself up on his elbows to gaze up at Balthier. 

“Took you long enough to get here.” 

“Terribly sorry. I was busy being a sky pirate. You ought to try it sometime.” 

“C’mere,” Vaan whines. "Less talking."

Balthier can smell it now, the liquor on Vaan’s breath; it explains the slight slur to his voice, the ease of his smile, and the fact the Madhu bottle was half-empty by the time Balthier got to it. He confirms his suspicions when he licks into Vaan’s mouth, kissing him deeply. The bed creaks as he pushes Vaan into the mattress further.

Maybe it's the liquor, but Vaan is feisty tonight - moreso than usual. Balthier can tell by the way Vaan nips and sucks at his mouth, fast and eager, a fervency Balthier commands. Vaan will get what he wants, he always does, but at Balthier's own pace. When he pulls back, Vaan is gasping through lips bruised a charming pink. He'd never say it, but Balthier would never tire of the sight.

Apparently Basch wouldn't either. Balthier feels those eyes on them both, and when he catches Basch's gaze, he smirks. Their captain's is always hard to read, but tonight it’s softened by liquor and lust, bared open like a page finally written in a language Balthier understands. Slowly, he pulls away from Vaan’s lips. 

“Care to partake?” Balthier offers, and Basch needs no further encouragement, leaning in to kiss Balthier. 

It’s a foreign thrill to kiss Basch; far different from the softness of Vaan’s smooth skin and plush lips, Basch's allure is a different beast altogether. Undeniable masculinity flows effortlessly into everything Basch does, whether he’s in the battlefield or the bedroom. Balthier cannot deny the lure of his rough hands that speak a gentle touch, or the way Basch’s stubble rakes over Balthier’s face, leaving Balthier wanting for more of that sweet ache whenever they pull away. 

Vaan makes a pleased sound beneath them. “Gods, you guys are so hot.” 

Balthier can feel the curl of Basch’s grin against his mouth, and he mirrors it. He will never quite forget the first time he saw Basch - really saw him - in the din of The Sandsea. Tavern lights, humming low, revealed a temptation Balthier was powerless to resist; he remembers each facet in slow motion piecemeal. A gentle gaze beneath a hardened brow. The hint of a grin branching upwards into sandy stubble. Freshly-groomed hair of muted gold feathering the broad line of his shoulders. 

Balthier was a goner the moment he laid eyes on Basch. A blessing and a curse that he'd never know what to do with such a power.

It’s Vaan’s impatient hand on Balthier’s cock that brings him back to the present. Slowly, he pulls from Basch’s mouth to face Vaan.

“You were right to prepare yourself for me,” Balthier leers down at Vaan’s bronze body, ripe and begging to be claimed. “I want you now.”

Vaan parts his thighs obediently, a wanton invitation if Balthier ever saw one. “Then come and get it.”

“Rather,” Balthier says, shifting on the bed so that he lays down next to Vaan. He pats his lap expectantly, his hard cock still jutting proudly from the splayed fly of his pants. “You’ll be the one coming and getting.”

Vaan pouts, an ambitious charade of plump-lipped pity that only tempts Balthier to fuck his face instead. Were the pirate’s lust not boring a hole into his patience, he might. 

“But--” 

“What happened to, ‘you worked so hard, Balthier, you deserve a break’? Thought you could just lay there like a trollop while I do all the work? Basch may be weak to your wiles, but you’ll not find me so generous.” He shimmies out of his pants and tosses them on the floor before settling back on the bed. 

“Ride it.” He snaps his fingers, and watches it ignite an undeniable arousal concealed in Vaan’s glare. Stubborn, but powerless to his desire for Balthier’s cock; just how Balthier likes him.

“It seems the liquor has anchored him to the bed,” Basch observes, amused. He uncaps a bottle of lube, likely discarded from earlier, and slicks up Balthier’s shaft without even needing to be asked. The gesture is perversely thoughtful, and Balthier throws him a grin. 

“All the more weight to ride me to the Cataract and back with then. Up with you, Vaan.”

Vaan sighs, but it’s a hollow sound at best. It’s not like it’s exactly a chore for him to fill up on Balthier, and all three of them know it. Basch steadies his hands on Vaan’s slim hips to guide him over Balthier’s cock. Balthier’s coeurl gaze watches them both with a smug hunger.

“That’s it,” Balthier grins as he holds the base of his shaft at Vaan’s entrance. His cockhead brushes against the hot ring of muscle, and Balthier’s eyes flick to Basch. “Right there.” 

With Basch’s guidance, Vaan lowers himself onto Balthier’s length. Normally they’d never start out like this, but with Basch having prepped Vaan prior to Balthier’s very arrival, he feels little guilt on the matter. Especially when Vaan’s devious hole starts to suck him in, numbing Balthier of any coherent thought. Guilt be damned. There’s no place for it here.

As Vaan sinks further down, Balthier moans with him. That pout from earlier quickly melts away as Vaan takes him inch by inch. When he finally bottoms out, all that’s left on the Dalmascan’s face is naught but a sweet satisfaction.

“Balthier,” Vaan sounds out, wearing the shape of the pirate’s name on his tongue like silk. He will never tire of hearing Vaan say it.

“Not so sour now, are you?”

Vaan hums in contentment. Then he leans down to kiss Balthier and wastes no time getting to work.

Rocking his hips, Vaan rides out Balthier’s length with no resistance, only enthusiasm; as though he were made for it, as though he has been here many times before, because he is, because he has. They’ve been at this game, just the two of them, for longer than Basch has been in their little mix - not terribly longer, but enough that now they navigate each other with a familiarity that speaks for itself. 

That delicious friction is the same it’s always been, but every time they fuck, it feels brand new. 

Balthier lowers his head to the pillows and lets Vaan do what Vaan does best: ride him. He closes his eyes. He relaxes. He focuses on nothing but Vaan’s self-made rhythm, until he can resist no longer and begins to thrust up to meet him. The pleased smirk that curls the edges of Balthier’s lips reaches to crinkle the corners of his eyes, and when he opens them, he meets Basch’s gaze.

“Come here,” Balthier says, his voice even despite Vaan unraveling him at the seams so early on. “Won’t you let me bring you off, Basch?”

Basch watches them for a bit longer, his eyes following the cant of Vaan’s hips as though mesmerized by how deep, how easily Vaan takes Balthier’s girth. He’s hard in his own hand, stroking himself at the sight. Balthier’s mouth waters. 

“I was hoping you’d offer.”

“What a gentleman,” Balthier quips, gesturing Basch to crawl towards him. “But next time, do me a favor. Don’t make me have to ask.”

Then he wraps his lips around Basch’s length, sealing the three of them together in a bind of seamless debauchery.

Basch’s cock is a fabulous specimen. Thick and charmingly curved, the impressive girth boasts a ripple of subtle veins Balthier finds great pleasure in running his tongue over. He already can taste a generous sampling of pre-cum from the slit, and laps at it with no shortage of enthusiasm. 

“Damn,” Vaan pants as he rides Balthier like he was made for it. “You look real good like that, ‘Thier. How’s he taste?” 

Hopefully Vaan wasn't looking for a real answer, because Balthier doesn't feel like giving one. Vaan tightens deliciously as he grinds, sending pleasure coursing through Balthier. He sighs around Basch’s cock, relishing its taste, and it’s not long until he’s bobbing his head perfectly in time with Basch’s hips.

Firmly, Balthier grabs Basch’s free hand and guides it to his head, sending the older man a firm look that all but shouts, _pull my hair, dammit, what are you, a spring chick?_

Ever the quick study, Basch complies, gripping Balthier’s hair firmly at the root. Heat blooms at his scalp where Basch pulls, and Balthier groans. Fucked into by the captain, and fucking into his apprentice, all Balthier can taste is Basch and feel is Vaan. Suppressing a shudder, Balthier uses his surge of lust to buck into Vaan, knees bent and feet flat on the mattress. He takes Vaan’s throbbing shaft in one of his hands and pumps, teasing foreskin over glistening cockhead.

“Shit,” Vaan chokes out as Balthier starts to meet his rhythm. “Gods, so deep. Fuck, yeah. Oh--Bal--” 

Caught in a web of both men, Balthier soars to heights the Strahl could never take him. His free hand moves to curl around the base of Basch’s cock, enveloping the length completely to stroke in time with the bobbing of his head.

It is just what Basch needs, not that he’d ever bloody ask for it. His moan tumbles forth like he’s just discovered a brilliant truth in the secret of Balthier’s mouth, and his grip tightens on Balthier’s hair. He yanks. Balthier whimpers again, pumping Basch with the slick of his own spit. 

“That--you make that look so good,” Vaan says. His voice is breathless but he babbles on regardless. “I want a taste, too.”

Suddenly Vaan shifts, laying fully over Balthier. Like simply swatting a fly, he bats away the pirate’s hand tugging Basch’s cock, swiftly replacing it with his mouth to lick in earnest.

“ _Mateus_ ,” Basch curses, though none of the fallen gods he chooses to call upon can help him with two mouths on him. “Vaan…Balthier--” 

Sandwiched between their mouths, Basch’s thick cock twitches. Balthier can’t help the smirk that pulls at his lips, catching Vaan’s gaze above him and the challenge lingering there. Both men’s tongues glide along Basch’s shaft in nonsensical patterns, the wet trail of their lust overlapping until he’s dripping with pre-come. 

It’s, quite frankly, the hottest idea Vaan has ever had, and when Balthier looks up at Basch, he thinks the man may have died. 

Basch is staring down at them both like he’s never seen them before, a revelation painted across his face as though they were what he’s been looking for all along as a lost man of Landis. His thrusts falter, erratic and stuttered, as Balthier and Vaan’s mouths flit across his cock in a battle where everyone wins. 

Balthier doesn't miss Vaan’s eyes glint in the cloying spark of tension between them. A stoked fire burns behind the blue-grey of his gaze, not unlike what Balthier saw that night in the Rabanastre Palace Treasury. _‘It’s mine,’_ he recalls Vaan saying then, and it echoes again in his memory when Vaan takes a chance to swallow Basch whole, robbing Balthier of his plunder yet again. 

“Greedy chit,” Balthier says. Vaan takes Basch to the root, until Balthier is certain the man is going to fall over. “Is one cock not enough for you?

“Nope.” Vaan’s grin is impish when he slides Basch’s length out of his mouth, its veer swiped back into Balthier’s grip to mix their saliva in wet, full strokes. Balthier thrusts deep into Vaan for good measure.

“Figures.”

Maybe, though, Vaan is onto something. A wicked idea suddenly flashes in Balthier’s mind, like lightning piercing the night with brilliant clarity. His hazel eyes glimmer.

“I’ve a thought, then. Captain,” Balthier’s gaze flits up to Basch, who doesn’t seem to be paying much attention to their banter as he bucks into the column of Balthier’s grip. “ _Basch_ ,” Balthier enunciates. 

“Aye?”

“If Vaan wants two, why don’t we give him two?” 

Basch pauses. He appears to think on it for an entire millisecond, before his grip curls in Balthier’s hair.

“You’re a wicked man, Balthier.”

“As a genius should be.”

Both men look at Vaan, who still bounces astride Balthier’s groin like a dirty afterthought. That impish look from earlier flickers away under the scrutiny. “Wait--you mean... _both of you_ , both of you?” 

Balthier kneads Vaan’s hip tenderly, sending him a wink as he kisses Basch’s cock. “Think about it--wouldn’t it be a thrill? Both of us, inside you at once. Filling you completely, until you can do naught but scream our names.” Damn, describing it alone is enough to bring Balthier to another crest of pleasure within Vaan’s heat and he bucks again until his balls hit Vaan’s ass.

Vaan’s eyes zone in on that very cock resting atop Balthier’s lips, taking in the length and girth of it with a cautious curiosity. A bruised hickey, written by Basch’s mouth from earlier, bobs on his throat when he swallows. 

“I…” 

Much like Vaan to bite off more than he can chew. But the idea is already in Balthier’s head, and he’s like not to let it go so easily. With a gesture, he guides Vaan off of him, and pulls away from Basch. 

“Lay him on his side, towards me,” Balthier orders Basch, who eases Vaan onto the bed. Guiding Vaan’s leg over his hip, Balthier pushes back deep inside with a single, smooth motion. Vaan gasps, taking him to the root without resistance. They fuck just like that for a few blissful moments.

It isn’t until now that Balthier hears the protest of the bed beneath them, the way its squeaks and groans with each thrust. If it breaks, he wonders if they’d get a new room or simply fuck on the debris. He laughs, but it’s lost in his kiss shared with Vaan.

“What’s so funny?” Vaan asks against his mouth.

“Only that we’re probably causing more of a clamor than you did, last we were here,” Balthier answers. 

“It’s not like you guys had any better ideas,” Vaan retorts. “I did all the-- _ah!_ \--work.”

“Then consider this our thanks,” comes Basch’s reply as he stretches along Vaan’s backside.

“We should have just done this.” Balthier’s suggestion has Basch grinning wryly.

“Would that it could have been enough to get the Marquis’ attention.”

“Think you he’d turn the other cheek at the sight? Come now - a sky pirate, a Dalmascan thief, and Captain _Basch fon Ronsenburg of Dalmasca_ fucking in the middle of Kaff Terrace.”

“It sounds like the start of a barrack’s joke.”

“Leave the barracks behind, Basch. There will be little left to jest with when Vaan shouts out your name in this city again, for different reasons altogether. Wouldn’t you like to hear it?” He locks his gaze with Vaan’s. “And wouldn’t you like to scream it?”

Vaan doesn’t answer, pulling Balthier as close as he can. He’s helplessly hard, and when Balthier reaches down to stroke at the length there, Vaan humps into his grip. With his free hand, Balthier ghosts over that precious point connecting them both, tracing the ring of muscle stretched obediently around his shaft. 

“What’re you…” Vaan starts. On cue, Basch presses up behind Vaan, latching his mouth onto the shell of his ear.

“If you would take us both,” Basch urges, maddeningly gentle with his wording, “just say the word.”

But Vaan isn’t listening to Basch. Vaan is looking at Balthier, _only_ at Balthier. The uncertainty in his eyes begs for a guidance only Vaan’s mentor can give, and pride swells within Balthier, knowing that Vaan is his in this way. He strokes Vaan’s cock and rocks into him like a pleasant afterthought.

He wants this, badly. To frighten Vaan away from it would do no good.

“I’ll let no harm come to you, darling,” he says, sealing his promise with a simple kiss.

Basch’s own promise rumbles shortly after, his mouth still perched at Vaan’s ear. “The moment you wish for us to stop, we stop.”

Vaan looks to both men, and nods. He seems to do little thinking on the matter, and for once, Balthier doesn’t mind it. “Okay,” he says, as though truly grounding himself in the decision. “Okay. What--where do we start?” 

“We’ll start right where we are. Then we add fingers. One at a time, stretching you open.” The very thought ignites a flurry of excitement in the pit of his belly. “Then you’ll take us both.”

At Balthier’s words, Vaan shudders. Good - he finds it just as appealing.

“Have you done this before?” he asks. Balthier shakes his head.

“Regrettably, I’ve not. Though I can’t deny my curiosity.” His eyes slant to the man behind Vaan’s shoulder. “And you, sir Knight?”

“As it happens, I have.”

Vaan’s head whips behind him as Balthier’s brows raise. Basch’s touch traces the base of Balthier’s cock, to tease Vaan’s ring of muscle encircling it. “It is as Balthier says. Slow and steady. If it becomes too much, simply say it.” Basch kisses Vaan’s cheek. “And we will stop.”

“ _Captain,_ ” Balthier says, scandalized though he’s grinning like an imp, “I didn’t realize you were so devious.”

“I meant what I said, when your idea echoed a barrack’s lark.”

“Didn’t think I’d ever regret bilking the draft, yet here we are,” Balthier deadpans. “Seems I missed out on great fun.”

“You surprise me in turn. Given your profession, I’d think plundering would be your specialty.” The smirk Basch gives Balthier makes him twitch in Vaan’s heat. 

Vaan shifts, dependent adoration plain upon his face when he looks back at Basch. “You think I can do it? ...Take both of you?”

“I think you more than capable, as long as you wish it,” Basch replies, his strong arms encircling Vaan’s shoulders to sandwich the boy between the men. “We start slow.”

Balthier takes his cue when Basch nods at him once. Pulling out, Balthier teases Vaan’s entrance with his tip, before pushing back in, this time with the added girth of Basch’s finger.

“Just like this,” Basch says, his voice softer than Balthier’s ever heard it. Vaan has that effect on even the most stoic of men, it would seem. Basch’s slicked digit pushes against the underside of his shaft, and Balthier knows Vaan can fit more, so much more. 

“You can do it, Vaan,” Balthier echoes Basch’s encouragement. It’s just as new to him, but Balthier has always been a sharp study, and he makes quick work with Basch to set a pace that gets Vaan going. Intently, Balthier watches Vaan’s face, searching for telltale signs of pleasure or pain.

So far, so good.

Vaan buries his face in Balthier’s shoulder, and shuts his eyes. “Keep doing that,” he says breathily. The two men follow suit, slowly fucking in and out of Vaan, prying him open with a patience bordering on reverence. 

With his free hand, Balthier runs his fingers through Vaan’s hair, easing out all the gnarls and tangles their wild day inflicted on him.

That’s right, it was only just today that the three of them were knee-deep in muck and gore, hacking through thorns and thickets on some hunt that nearly got them all _killed_. 

It had been a mark misidentified by the guild; vastly underestimated by the petitioner, and nothing like advertised. Some massive Behemoth-bred Mantis, possessed by a savage joy that brought it hacking through the untamed greenwood of Dorstonis. The hunt was supposed to have been _advanced pest control_ , nothing more; what met them instead was a fiend whose arms boasted blades the size of the Strahl’s wingspan, and a carapace impenetrable to anything but magicks.

By the end of the day, they’d been lucky to survive. Were it not for the Espers, Vaan’s knack for white magick, and what little time-spells Balthier and Basch knew, they’d be rotting in some underbrush on the outskirts of Bhujerba by now.

Balthier mulls it all over as he combs out the remaining tangles of Vaan’s hair. They've both been working into him enough by now to ease a second finger in on Basch’s end. Vaan gasps, his face constricting to a brief flicker of panic.

“Be gentle with him,” Balthier warns Basch, a protective threat to his even tone. His eyes flicker at Basch, who returns the same look.

“I am always gentle with him,” is Basch’s simple, firm rebuttal. 

In the lamplight, Balthier takes in the fallen knight’s deadly gorgeous face. His gaze traces the unmistakable ridge of Basch’s scar slicing over his brow, and wonders just how close he was to losing sight there completely. Balthier imagines there are likely other things Basch is more grateful to keep at this point; perhaps one day he will outright ask what they are.

Instead, Balthier leans over Vaan’s shoulder, and kisses Basch on the lips, just as gentle as he had done with Vaan.

They could have died today.

As things have panned out, they could have died yesterday, and the day before, and the day before. With the way things are starting to look, the odds of _not-dying_ aren’t exactly in their favor for any of their tomorrows, either. 

Fate allows little time for subterfuge and quiet games. If this plight is hell-bent on stripping Balthier of his self-forged freedom until he is nothing but a prodigal son with a different name, then so be it.

But Balthier will not let Fate strip him of his pirate heart. It hungers to take, take, take.

And take he does.

Balthier thrusts into Vaan deeper, feeling every fluttering thrum of Vaan’s tightness as he accommodates the added intrusion of Basch’s fingers.

“Good. That’s my good boy,” Balthier purrs, Vaan’s breath hitching. He shudders at the praise.

“Better, Vaan?” Basch asks.

“Yeah,” Vaan replies. His voice sounds strangely bewildered. “How many--how many fingers are in there?”

Basch hums next to Vaan’s ear. “Guess,” he says. 

“I-- Don’t know. Two?”

“Three,” comes Basch’s response, and Balthier’s brows raise with Vaan’s. He thought there were only two as well. 

“No wonder you feel so perfectly tight,” Balthier murmurs, licking into Vaan’s open mouth. “Imagine how you’ll be, filled twofold.” His eyes flit up to the man in question. “What say you, Basch? Is it enough?”

“That question is best left to Vaan.”

Vaan doesn’t look entirely present, but he gives them both a nod. “Move like that for a bit. Then I’ll be good.”

 _Impressive._ Vaan’s admittedly doing better than Balthier would have thought at this point. When he pulls out, Basch pushes in, and they work just like that until they have Vaan loose and moaning again.

Offering his body like this to both of them speaks volumes to Balthier, and he holds his apprentice close. For now, he lets Basch fall to the wayside. For now it’s only them, and Balthier once again guiding Vaan through something new, something scary, something great. He smiles, peering through the curtain of Vaan’s flaxen hair, only to find eyes that implore something he is terrified at his willingness to give.

“Like that, like that,” Vaan says over and over again, burying his head back in that crook of Balthier’s neck to nip and suck and whine.

“Like this?” Balthier rolls his hips a little faster, a little harder into this new friction. The unmistakable ridges of Basch’s fingers glide against the underside of his shaft. “Is this what you want?”

“S’good,” Vaan nods. “Really nice.”

“Good. You feel incredible, Vaan.”

The three men move like that together, Balthier lost in the swell of Vaan’s heat made tighter by Basch’s fingers. It sends him into a dreamy state, until eventually, Basch pulls out.

“Are you ready?” Basch asks at Vaan’s ear, already slicking himself up. But it’s Vaan who looks to Balthier for an answer, and as soon as Balthier catches those eyes, he knows.

“Oh, he’s ready all right,” Balthier smirks. “I see it, plain as day. Shove it in, Basch.”

Balthier pulls Vaan into another deep kiss while Basch licks Vaan’s neck, leaving marks in the idle wake of his mouth. When he bites down, Vaan gasps - a sound Balthier echoes shortly after.

He feels it the moment Vaan does, because suddenly what was tight before is even _tighter_ now; a pressure three fingers could not hold a candle to, not against a warm, thick, hard cock sliding against Balthier’s in a heat he only ever thought about hoarding all to himself. 

“W-wait,” Vaan stammers. There’s a bewilderment in his voice, as though he didn’t truly realize this meant what it literally meant from the start. “Is that really--are you really...is that your _cock_?”

Basch hums an affirmation. “I’ll go as slow as you need. Tell me when to stop.”

“Oh my gods,” Vaan chokes out, but he doesn’t say _stop_ , so Basch laps at the bite mark there as he presses in further. 

Balthier’s own breath stutters. It’s warm, so _impossibly_ warm, a Firaga brought on by Basch’s cock against his, married together in Vaan's heat. He can feel Basch pulsing, or him pulsing, or Vaan pulsing; he cannot tell where one of them begins and the other ends. The sensation is a paradise that until now he’s only read about in epicurean tales of wonder.

“By the gods,” Balthier chokes. “So tight.” It’s all he can manage, his lush loquacity wrung dry by the two men tangled up with him. Red heat envelopes Balthier, igniting brilliant explosions of color behind his closed lids. 

He wants to laugh and weep and cum all at once, but instead he simply opens his eyes to see Basch, and Vaan there between them.

His apprentice already looks fucked out to hell and back, and they have barely even started. Vaan’s heavy-lidded eyes flutter, and the magicite lantern sets the thin sheen of sweat on his skin aglow. When Basch pushes in further, Vaan’s lithe muscles seize like a bowstring until he’s nearly trembling with tension. A hint of white teeth flashes as Vaan bites into his lip, the color of his mouth like a bruised peach.

“You are a magnificent little thing,” Balthier praises, resting his forehead against Vaan’s. “You’re doing so well for us. Isn’t he, Basch?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Basch says, his voice somewhat strained as he all but marvels at the sensation Balthier shares. “Vaan, are you in pain?”

“It--yeah,” Vaan’s answer precedes a sharp, quiet breath through his teeth, his nails digging little crescents into Balthier’s shoulders. “But it’s okay. It--can you move? Either of you, just. Someone move.”

“Breathe, darling. And all will be well. You feel simply divine.” Balthier’s touch traces down Vaan’s cheek softly. He cannot imagine how full Vaan feels, stuffed with both the pirate and captain’s cocks. Vaan must be thinking the same thing, because a wanton groan rumbles in his throat as Basch presses back in again.

“I can’t,” Vaan sucks in a breath. “Believe it. Both of you--you’re both…”

“Inside, yes.” Basch’s voice makes Balthier want to moan, were he not breathless. “Better, now that I’m moving?”

Basch swoops down to lap and nip at Vaan’s neck. Balthier watches as the tanned column of Vaan’s throat flushes to an apricot-pink, its hue reminiscent of summer dusk. Every short thrust Basch gives sends his cock deeper into Vaan, stretching him more and more. When he stops, fully bottomed out, Balthier can feel Basch’s balls rest against his.

“Relax, darling,” Balthier urges, though his voice is a rasp of barely-contained desire, animalistic and feral against the bindings of his composure. “You’ve done it. You’ve taken us both.”

A burst of wind from the open window sends the drapes billowing into the room, and beneath Balthier’s touch, Vaan shivers into him. 

“You’re both...so big. I can’t believe it. I can’t--tell who’s who.”

“We can help clear that up, I’m sure.”

Balthier grins, wolfish, into Vaan’s glassy eyes. He wants to fuck, _gods,_ he wants to fuck into his perfect little apprentice _now_. 

A heady lust-fog swells within, threatening to shred what tatters of Balthier’s restraint remain salvageable, but it’s Basch who moves first, sending Balthier and Vaan into awestruck bliss. They moan Basch’s name together in a depraved harmony; the rest is lost to Balthier as his vision fades and only sensation remains. 

Basch’s cock glides along the underside of Balthier’s in a deep friction, leaving scorching pleasure in its wake. Filled by them both, Vaan gasps, finally stretching to accommodate their girths instead of merely receiving them. 

Finally, Balthier can resist no longer. 

When Basch pushes back in, Balthier pulls out, and that motion alone births a rhythm they ride like wind beneath wings. Basch’s eyes catch Balthier’s, and they don’t break the line of sight over Vaan’s shoulder as they dick into him like a steady piston. 

“Bal...Basch… You’re so deep, oh--gods, _both_ \--” Vaan’s words surrender, cut short by a keen and sending Balthier back in harder. All at once Balthier’s resolve crumbles, and his ego falls from him like rain until all that is left is the naked truth of his indulgent praise. 

“You’re so tight, Vaan, like you were made for this, made for taking us both. Look at you, incredible little thing. That’s my good boy.” The lecherous eulogy scatters from Balthier’s lips like drunken babble. “You love being full of cock, don’t you?”

“Bal-th- _ier_ ,” Vaan chokes out fractions of his name with every thrust and it sounds like a prayersong on his lips.

And then there’s Basch, just as lovely as Vaan in this perfect mess. Wispy blonde hair sticks to his neck like dampened threads of gold, his shapely lips parted in concentration as he presses against Balthier’s cock with every thrust. He looks euphoric. Balthier longs to hear him.

“So deep, aren’t you, Basch? Is it good?”

“Yes, gods, yes,” is all Basch can manage. His pace quickens, driving into Vaan further until the boy is nothing but a cocksleeve just for them. Lost to the bliss of Vaan’s heat, Basch closes his eyes and rests his forehead against the back of Vaan’s neck. 

The pressure of both cocks bound together in that tight channel sends Balthier’s deeper against Vaan’s prostate. Between them, he thrashes in ecstasy. 

“There, gods, there, there, _there_ , ‘ _Thier, Basch_ ,” Vaan’s words tangle like a Salikawood vine until his plead wraps around them both, rendering them powerless to his whims.

“Like this? You like it like this?” 

Vaan manages a pathetic excuse for an agreement, the sound a sloppy _uh-huh_ from the back of his throat. 

In this otherworldly bind, Balthier cannot tell which heat is Basch’s and which is Vaan’s and which is his own; together, they weave a perfect tapestry of sin upon which all Balthier can do is fuck. He surges forward to capture Basch’s mouth in a kiss, and that is what becomes Basch's sole undoing. 

A rumbled purr rolls into the velvet of Balthier’s mouth, signaling Basch’s orgasm. Another thrust is all it takes before Basch’s load adds further to the slick channel of Vaan’s ass. It’s exhilarating.

“Holy shit,” Vaan marvels, grabbing Basch’s hand at his waist. “Basch, I--I _felt you cum_.”

“Don’t pull out,” Balthier commands, quickening his pace. He wants to cum like this, just like this. Vaan does too, judging by the way he grinds between them both desperately.

“Keep fucking me there, _please,_ Balthier. _Right_ there.”

Balthier gazes down, and his breath catches at the sight of Vaan. If Dorstonis is the highest continent known to man, Vaan is somewhere beyond it, brought there by whatever unearthly pleasure he’s found from the stretch of both men’s girths. Fragments of their names sputter out of Vaan’s mouth. The boy is impossibly hard, helpless to their mercy, his cockhead drooling as it slaps across his abdomen. 

“You want to cum? Like this, with both of us inside you?”

“Yes, want both of you inside me. Don’t stop. _Fuck_ , so close. Don’t stop. Basch, touch me,” Vaan begs.

Basch wastes no time. He reaches around to grab Vaan’s cock, milking out another keen from Vaan’s lips slack in a whorish gape. 

“Come for us, Vaan,” Basch says over Vaan’s climbing moans. He cranes his head, sandy stubble raking over Vaan’s cheekbone to kiss him there in some juxtaposed gesture of tenderness amidst the depravity. 

“Listen to the captain, darling. Make it nice and loud.” His grip fumbles before settling to overlap Basch’s, and together they stroke him. “I want to hear you scream.”

And scream Vaan does, his orgasm announced by a string of moans and curses into the summer night. Balthier has a perfect vantage point for every nuance of euphoria plain on Vaan’s face, accompanied quickly by a spurting heat trickling down Balthier’s knuckles from his spry cockhead. 

It’s all more than enough to carry Balthier to his own surrender. He moans, buried balls deep into Vaan as he cums. Basch’s shaft anchors him within the tightness, pinning his cock to the walls of Vaan’s twitching heat. Somehow his climax lasts both a lifetime and a heartbeat, and when he comes down from it, he is as dizzy and breathless as the rest of his motley bedmates. 

All at once, the three of them sigh. They don’t know how long it takes them to move again, but when they do it feels too soon.

From the open window, another gust of midnight wind pushes into the room, sending the drapes into a rout and cooling their sweat-matted hair and skin. Vaan’s groan is the first sign of any life among their still bodies. 

“Holy shit,” he manages, ever the eloquent bedmate. Balthier and Basch, however, can only sound off their agreement in a unanimous hum of satisfied awe. They’ve both softened within Vaan, and on their own accord their cocks slide out onto the mess of the sheets. They’re all positively filthy, but the filthiest among them is easily Vaan, who smiles when Balthier catches his eye.

“How was that?” Balthier queries, though that dazed, distant look on Vaan’s blissed-out face is answer enough. 

“Amazing,” Vaan says, eyes distant as though he’s still processing what just happened. The sheets rustle as Basch stirs behind him.

“I’d all but forgotten how incredible that felt,” he admits.

“Thank Faram Vaan and I were here to swiftly remind you, then. Hm, what was it you were saying earlier, about me being wicked?”

“If it’s an apology you’re after, you’ll have to seek virtue elsewhere, pirate. I’ll rescind my words when you quit proving them true.”

“Alas. Another day passes where I cannot win your blessing,” Balthier laments.

“Something tells a man like you would do little with such a thing.”

“So you say.”

“Hey, guys?” Vaan interrupts their little _tete a tete_ as he squirms. “I’m kinda gross right now. Can we shower?”

The three men forego the bed - now a messy nest of sheets damp with the wake of their sex - to opt instead for the washroom. 

Vaan eases in the water first, hissing through his teeth as it soothes his sore rear. 

“I’ll be feeling this tomorrow,” he laughs.

“What, a simple Cure won’t patch you up?” Balthier queries as he joins Vaan under the hot spray.

“Doubt it.”

Without the curtain of lust fogging Balthier’s vision, he sees now that Vaan has more than just a sore rump on his plate to deal with; the rest of his body is mottled in hickeys, scratches and lovebites, all evidence of the depravity unleashed on his body tonight. There’s a sweet satisfaction at the sight of Vaan wearing their claim upon his flesh.

Basch joins in, and the three of them fill the stall with little room to spare. Citron wafts in the moist air as they lather each other up, wholly unbothered by the proximity given the night they just had.

“Hey, quit it. I can bathe myself, y’know,” Vaan grumbles, bristling as Basch takes it upon himself to massage shampoo into Vaan’s hair. 

“Debatable,” is Basch’s simple reply. 

“Really! We hadn't noticed, what with all the sand you've tracked from my ship to the bed; both of which prove impressive considering we’ve not been near Dalmasca in a fortnight." 

Balthier’s rebuttal is but a gentle tease as he runs his hands across Vaan’s torso, giving a soapy nub a little pinch there for good measure. Finally, when the gesture of being bathed proves itself reverent enough for him to acquiesce, Vaan sighs into the four hands sliding along his tired body. In the shower’s fog, his damp lashes flutter as Basch massages into his scalp.

The rest of their shower is a pleasant, quiet blur, all three of them unwinding in the calm after their ambitious rut. When Vaan steps out, a soaking mess, Balthier cannot resist running his hands along Basch in the brief moment they share alone in the steamy stall.

“Nice moves there, Captain,” Balthier echoes one of his first sentiments ever uttered at Basch with a grin. Basch laughs easy at the memory. The sound fills the shower and warms Balthier in ways the water cannot.

“Flattery will get you nowhere,” Basch teases back, but makes no move to step away when Balthier presses his body against that broad chest. Balthier runs his touch down it, tracing aimless water droplets on the damp dusting of blonde hair there.

“Are you quite certain?” 

“Balthier.”

Heedless, Balthier does not relent, insatiable in his climb to hedonistic glory. Tonight has only sated one hunger while birthing another completely. “I’m sure Vaan wouldn’t be averse to having you all for myself one night. Maybe you can show me what else you learned in the barracks. You seem to know a few tricks.”

“A pirate borrowing wiles from a soldier…” Basch hesitates. “I may have a few I’d be willing to share.”

Balthier’s lips curl into a smile. “I look forward to it.”

Without the distraction of sex, the modest inn bed seems smaller when they emerge from the washroom, but with a new set of sheets it’s suitable enough.

Basch, Balthier and Vaan settle for a position similar to their earlier entanglement. It proves not so cumbersome to slot around each other again, making some shape fitting enough for sleep. The quiet rasp of stubble as Basch nuzzles Vaan’s neck precedes the captain’s bid goodnight, and then the room is black.

Vaan sighs pleasantly. The sound is nearly lost in a rustle of sheets, but Balthier catches it, and knows Vaan smiles. His ringed hand compasses through the dark, and when it finds Vaan’s, Balthier holds on doesn’t let go. 

Out of all the forbidden desires Balthier has indulged, both as an Archadian and a pirate, the one here in his very grasp upstages the rest.

He could get used to something like this.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoy this as much as Balthier did.
> 
> Endless thanks to my patient beta readers. Shots for all y'all. 
> 
> I made a twitter. Let's be friends! @ ridorana_ao3


End file.
